John was yet again fighting the losing battle of keeping 221B in some semblance of cleanliness. He sighed and picked up Sherlock's dressing gown, the harpoon, and a couple of other items to put back where they belonged. He managed to nudge the door open before he lost his grip on the pile of possessions in his arms. The harpoon knocked the alarm clock off the table and sent it sliding under the bed. He gave a frustrated sigh before dumping the pile on the bed and crouching down on the floor. He could make out the vague outline of the alarm clock against something darker; he reached for it. Meeting nothing but air and ended up lying on the floor to try again. This time his hand brushed against something smooth and weighty before scooping up the clock. Curiosity got the best of Watson and he opened it feeling his jaw drop and his eyes widen a fraction in shock.

Sherlock Holmes, the socially challenged, asexual consulting detective had porn here. Porn! John picked up the issue that lay on the very top of the pile. Tiny Tits monthly spelled out in hot pink and white lettering across the chest of a lithe young woman posed provocatively on the cover. He glanced at the issue date and – oh bloody hell. That explained everything. Why Sherlock would always insist on collecting the mail for about a week near the end of the month. Why he always looked a bit disappointed and when those brown paper packages arrived; he would act like someone had committed a murder and would disappear into his room for hours. John shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose because he refused to follow that trail of thought.

When he asked him once about the flat package with brown paper, He simply told him that it was "The latest report on elements that can affect post mortem results." John had never questioned it again because, he was Sherlock Holmes. Always conducting horrible experiments and leaving body parts lying around where they kept food. To him the body was "merely transport" so to see that he was a man underneath all that cool deducing exterior was… refreshing.

He flipped through the glossy pages carefully shifted the magazines around until he worked his way to the bottom of the pile. Apparently he had been a fan of this magazine for at least ten years now. An idea struck him like a bolt out of the blue. Sherlock's birthday was coming up soon and what better way to embarrass the hell out of him (if he ever got embarrassed) than to reveal that he knew his dirty little secret. He opened the magazine and discovered that they started publishing back in 1990… Sherlock's collection only went back to 2000.

Noting the web address in the corner, he quickly put everything back in order and rushed to retrieve his laptop. Bringing up the site, he searched for a section labeled "back issues" and clicked the link with a devious little smile.

A week later, he was sitting in his office when a knock sounded "John?" Mary called through the door "You've got a package."

It was then that John realized Oh shit, its Sherlock's gift, and rushed over to open the door for her.

He opened the door to her smiling face "Hello darling."

"Hello" he smiled and fidgeted a bit as he raised his hands and gestured towards the box "here, let me take it off your hands."

Mary noticed that he seemed a bit nervous. So she had to tease him a bit. Especially since she had already opened it and, saw the contents. She knew John, and all his kinks. She suspected that this particular parcel was for Sherlock. She swung away from him a bit "Oh, I've got it; I'll just set it on your desk for you." She planted a kiss on his cheek as she walked past and felt the heat practically radiating from his cheek. He could be so adorable sometimes.

"There we are," she announced as she placed the box on the table "Allthewaysyoushop Ltd. Hmmm," she hummed as if contemplating the name of the business before meeting John's red face "Is there porn in here?" John turned a deeper red.

She laughed "Oh close the door John, unless you plan to share Sherlock's little gift with the patients and the entire office."

He gaped at her "How…" he paused "Hang on, how do you know it's for Sherlock?"

Now it was her turn to turn a bit pink in the cheeks "I may have opened it thinking it was supplies for the office."

They chuckled before looking at the box "So how did you discover this little secret?"

"I was cleaning the flat up a bit, knocked over some stuff in his room and found his stash in a box under the bed."

"That's an awfully typical place to hide ones porn."

John nodded "Well, considering that no one ever goes in there except maybe Mrs. Hudson to do a bit of dusting and the fact that I've never found it before..." he shrugs.

"So Dr. Watson, since it's time for our lunch break… would you like to have a look?" she smiled coquettishly with her box cutter in her hand.

Mary and John reached in and pulled out random magazines from the box. They began to flip through them with Mary occasionally showing John and making a comment of "Oh I love her hair", "She's quite fit" or "what was she thinking when she got that tattoo."

"Tiny Tits University issue '99 oooh." She laughed and began to flip through the magazine before she froze at page 74 and a very familiar face.

Molly Hooper, Bart's head Pathologist and her friend was staring back at her from the glossy pages with a come hither stare and not a stitch on. Damn she was very fit. Who knew that what lay under those layers of clothing was a svelte seductress. And why had she never told her about this?!

Mary blinked before she began to gather up the magazines and place them back in the box.

"What is it?"

"I just realized that we're probably covering the pages with fingerprints and Sherlock probably wouldn't be too happy about that." She covered.

"You're probably right" he began to gather up the other stack and placed them back in the box.

Mary thought about sticking the magazine in her purse and disposing of it before anyone else could discover what was no doubt, Molly's little secret. No, maybe I should leave it for Sherlock to find, John had told her all about that Christmas when Sherlock had insulted the size of her lips and breasts. What would he think now that his mousy little pathologist posing in a magazine. Well, that was that. She set the magazine on the top and closed the box.